The last time Daimen had hit the demon with his hammer, the attack had comprised only of his full physical strength, maybe laced a little bit with a touch of destruction to help aid in the attack.

  This time, when he attacked, he did it with more essence than physical strength, the essence of the soul sneaking through the weapon, into the armor and the body encased within it to slam directly against the soul.

  A Mind Demon, likewise every other Demons species except one, were soulless creatures. By some miracle that defied the cosmic mechanism for living existence, they were able to exist without souls.

  When they inhabited a body, breaking into their victim's budding mindscape and making a home there, they didn't just steal the consciousness, they forced a connection into the soul, a layer of being that should have been left untouched, thereby granting themselves an unsanctioned access to the powers of the host.

  This was why they were so feared and hated.

  The Mind Demons, in doing so, turned the connection from a one way structure into a two way one.

  Daimen's soul attack, which should have been made mute had the demon remained in its assigned prerogative, was made effective by the sympathetic connection between it and its host. When the house cracked, the inhabitant also felt the brunt of it.

  The Demon didn't roar this time. No, this was too painful for that. A shrill howl, Inhuman and filled with so much agony that even Daimen couldn't help but sympathize, tore out of its throat, blasting into the air and causing the earth to tremble.

  The creature that had been poised to deliver a deadly strike blasted backwards in a whoosh of air, its weapon slipping from its grip to clatter onto the ground.

  The monsters swarmed in then, talons, claws, fangs, horns, and metallic wings tearing into joints and slits in the armor. And for the first time since the fight began, blood was drawn that did not belong to the monsters.

  Life liquid leaked from the armored parasite, who remained catatonic on its back, unfeeling of the bladed appendages that shredded into it.

  This was the perfect opportunity that Damien wasn't going to let go to waste. He sprinted towards the downed creature, the monsters parting from him by some unheard command, and then brought his hammer down again on the creature, a giant gray star manifesting on the surface of the monster's armor, right as the hammer came down on it.

  Daimen was sent reeling backwards from the force of his own Master technique. The demon, on the other hand, was sent deeper into the ground, cracks spiderwebbing across its chest plate as it cratered the ground beneath.

  The demon came to then, rising to its feet with a painful grunt. But Daimen didn't let up, he came again and again, cutting through the air with momentum as he landed attack and attack on the creature, his soul well draining like water through a sieve.

  The creature grappled for him, but its hundred ton weighing armor, as well as its cracked metaphysical structure, slowed it down well enough for Daimen to slip easily out of its grip.

  Command after command tore out of his lips, slowing down the creature and sending sharp spikes of pain traveling up its sympathetic line.

  The soul inhabiting the body might have been beneath him, but it was still the soul of a Spirit King, and as such could not be so easily shattered. But Daimen made the creature pay in agony.

  It growled, howled, and mewled, its sword blasting through the air in a blind attempt to catch him.

  It almost got him, many times, but somehow—less surprising the more it happened—a monster appeared out of nowhere, jumping right in the path of its strike, taking the hit meant for him to itself.

  Daimen knew who was doing this, but he couldn't spare the mental acumen to give his appreciation. Injured or not, this was still a Spirit King, and it pushed him like no other, forcing him to walk a tightrope between victory and death.

  His beams of destruction tore across the earth, carving deep lines into the earth and forcing the demon to dodge.

  The creature retaliated by unleashing tongues of blue white lightning that struck out at every direction, forcing monsters down into painful catatonic agony. Daimen watched for them, dodging where he could and using his Astral summoned cloak to tank the ones he couldn't. He avoided taking them head on like his life depended on it, because frankly, it did. The bolts were incapable of killing him, but they could incapacitate him long enough for the demon to catch up.

  A serpent with wings at its back snuck through the demon's defenses, and before the infernal could move to dispense it, it spat out some kind of black reeking sludge.

  The creature was separated in two before it could do a repeat, but the deed had been done.

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  Rust spread across the armor at a speed that worried Daimen. Within seconds, the fresh blood that was stuck to the armor were rendered into crusts, cracking and shattering, alongside tiny pieces of the plate.

  One became two, and very soon the armor began breaking apart, dissolving into metallic dust. The cracks Daimen had opened when he'd struck it earlier had paved the way, but the black sludge finished the job.

  The demon's spiritual defenses over its body must have been severely weakened, because after eating through the armor, the sludge decay snuck into the skin within.

  Fur… must have been a beastkin then. It didn't last long. A few seconds after he caught sight of its actual body, the furs were no more, dried and melted, leaving way for skin that vaguely resembled those of humans. The demon panicked then, its gauntlet slapping against its chest to snuff out the black plague spreading across its chest, but the thing simply stuck to the plate, eating through it as well.

  Somebody whispered something in infernal, soft but loud enough to reach Daimen and the Demon guard. The Spirit King, proud even after he'd been brought low to the ground, froze when it heard the voice. And even though Daimen couldn't see its face, he could sense the terror that wafted off it.

  Slowly, it turned, Daimen following it with his eyes. And there, a few feet behind the guard, stood the prisoner, who looked on with a knowing look. The chains around its limbs were gone, the pieces scattered around somewhere. There was no cockiness or playfulness on its expression, which made it even more dangerous as Daimen regarded it.

  Daimen bent his head to the side, spotting the collapsed form of the second white robed demon, who lay bleeding in a large puddle of blood that kept spreading even as he watched.

  Fear attempted to worm its way into his mind but he shook it off immediately, acting on his opponent’s distraction. He stepped through space, hammer poised to strike. When he appeared behind the demon, it didn't mount up any form of defense, stricken mute by fear.

  It gasped as Daimen's soul coated hammer struck its back, its body locking up as the captured soul within the body finally shattered.

  In that moment of shock, that moment of incapacitation, Daimen opened his mind, and the demon, stricken with terror, fled into it.

  When the demon appeared, Daimen was already waiting for it. The creature, bare of its armor and the body within, could only stare, confused, with its inhuman features.

  “Where—?”

  “Welcome to my Mind,” Daimen said as large pieces of bones rose above the ground, each piece ending with a sharpened end.

  The demon did what it should have done since, then. It attempted to manifest its domain, but it was too late. This was Daimen's mind, his own space. He rejected the manifestation before a single spark was born.

  Reeling from his heavy handed rebuttal, it was slow to mount up any defense as Daimen sent the spikes flashing for it.

  They struck into its flesh with a loud thud, turning the fifteen foot tall giant into a meaty pincushion. It staggered back, now a humanoid porcupine. And Daimen sent more bone spikes flashing for it, each sharpened end biting into the creature.

  The creature deflected most of the javelins with its telekinetic powers, but Daimen simply kept sending more. This was his mind, his home turf, where even a full powered Spirit King would have had much trouble conquering, talk less of one already brought low by multiple devastating attacks.

  It fought back, its tentacles a whipping storm as it sent waves after waves of mental energy that scattered mountains of bones into the air and caving in the earth, all in a bid to hold down Daimen. But here, in a place entirely under his command, he was Divine, and Divine did not subject itself to the laws of the world.

  The concept of distance ceased to exist as Daimen pushed his mind to the maximum. He moved in and out of the demon's proximity, delivering attacks that sent it reeling backwards with every hit. One became two and two became four, until eventually they all compounded, overwhelming the creature, tearing into it until it was laid down to its knee.

  Even still, Daimen refused to go close to it. He watched, keeping a good distance, as the creature slowly succumbed to death, collapsing and joining the others of its kin in his mind.

  The second it died, a tremor shook the gray landscape of Daimen's mind. In the background, something shattered and the sound of iron hitting the ground reached his ears. He breathed in, gulping in a rush air with widening eyes as he felt something revitalizing flow into him. In his mind's eye, he felt the landscape expand, more gray earth rising up out of nothing.

  It took a while for the rush of energy to calm, and when it did, when he opened his eyes, he felt loss of words to describe how he felt. He looked down, opening his hand and closing it, feeling the strength that flowed through it. He felt like he could crush a mountain with a single tap, shift the tides of a river with a casual gesture.

  He felt unstoppable, and the feeling made him grimace.

  Before he could revel more into it, he removed himself from this place, settling back into his body.

  When he opened his eyes, silence greeted him. The earth was pockmarked with scars, giant craters marring its surface. Despite how it had seemed, the battle with the demon had not been easy, and the large hole spanning multiple miles in radius was evidence of the devastating clash that had happened here.

  Daimen felt his heart settle, his mind coming back from the edge he'd pushed it to, an edge that had kept him whole and alive.

  He breathed in the silence, savoring it, and it should have stayed that way save for the grinning face of the demon prisoner who appeared in his vision, strutting with that annoying smug smile.

  The creature opened its mouth to speak but was interrupted when Daimen hammer stopped an inch from its face, its arrival blowing a gust of air that ruffled the infernal’s hair.

  “I need answers, now.”

  The creature leaned backwards, bending its head to the side to look at Daimen. “An oath was made.”

  “Yes, by you,” Daimen reminded.

  “On contingent that you heed to the same agreement,” it arched an eyebrow, sending him a knowing smile. “Surely, you understand that an attack by you against me will dissolve any previous agreement.”

  Daimen glanced to the side, catching the silhouettes of the remaining monsters that had retreated back into the mist. Retreated, yes, but they still remained, lurking just out of sight but ready to jump in to save their master should it call.

  He considered their remaining numbers, his now completely empty soul well, and his exhausted body.

  Daimen turned back to the demon. He didn't put down his weapon.

  “Answer my question.”

  Tension mounted as he and his now—possible—partner regarded each other, sizing each other up in case they came to blows.

  The demon sighed, rolling its eyes, much to Daimen's disgruntlement. “You may call me Daskar… Daskar It’Yixil.”